Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Scraping the bottom of the barrel

We all have a point at which we survey our situation and realize that we've pretty much hit bottom. True enough, I'm not giving wristies out behind the local 7-11 yet, but I am doing the cyberspace employment search equivalent and searching the Craigslist employment ads.

Generally speaking, there are two types of ads on Craigslist. The jobs that promise you can nap all day on company time for which they will pay you $50K/year or the jobs that want you to pretty much run the company AND scrub the owner's balls (preferably with your tongue) for minimum wage.

I have come to believe that Craigslist job ads are some sort of Psych 101 test designed by a teaching assistant whose favorite prof has started buffing the undercarriage of a new TA whilst relentlessly teasing the TA who is being cast aside. That and it is a phisherperson's paradise. "Hey, do you think if we tell the applicant that we need to run a "consumer report" that they'll e-mail us a copy of their ID and Social Security Card?" (Yes, this has ACTUALLY HAPPENED. I responded to a job ad and they emailed back that they wanted to have a copy of my ID plus a copy of my Social Security card PLUS my banking information (for direct deposit, ya know).

I may have been born at night, but it wasn't LAST night, honey and I didn't fall on my head when I fell off the turnip truck.

Let's face it, with a resume of career catastrophe's like mine, I really need to find a place that I can stay a few years and at least have the appearance of being a "lifer" for some company. It would be really nice (and I know this is wholly unrealistic) if the place were not a holding pen for drama llamas and highschoolish cliques. And being paid more than tiny monies for the privilege of tonguewashing someone's balls would be a super bonus.

I'll be honest with you... Ms. Cleo is getting damn tired of the whole job hunting thing. I spend enough time on the computer that wristies behind the 7-11 is only going to hasten the inevitable carpal tunnel and I refuse to do hummers on unwrapped candy canes because most dudes do not find the safety goggles to prevent bodily fluids being liberated into my eyes a real sexy look (although, Rule 34 does apply and some guys dig that look).

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About Me

Forty plus hours a week, plus commute time... we live to work/work to live. I'm here to share my work experiences... True tales (more or less) of a workin' gal (with a bit of life, because life effects work, work effects life, that's just the way it is). I hope to make you laugh... periodically to make you think...a walk down memory lane and some thoughts about the future.